[A series of characteristic sketches of Life in the Navy, has
appeared in the successive numbers of the _Metropolitan_, from the
pen of Captain Marryatt, author of the _King's Own_, and other
popular novels, with a high stamp of originality. The sketches
before us are entitled Peter Simple, and detail the early
adventures of a Middy with much of that delightful ease we are
wont to admire in the writings of Smollett, Fielding, and the
_character_ novelists of the latter half of the past century. The
style of Captain Marryatt is fresh, vigorous, and racy--"native
and to the manner born,"--abounding in lively anecdote, but never
straying into caricature--with just enough of the romance of life
to keep the incidents afloat from commonplace, and probability
above-board. This and the following are specimen sketches.]
We all had leave from the first lieutenant to go to Portdown fair, but
he would only allow the oldsters to sleep on shore. We anticipated so
much pleasure from our excursion, that some of us were up, and went
away in the boat sent for fresh beef. This was very foolish. There
were no carriages to take us to the fair, nor indeed any fair so early
in the morning: the shops were all shut, and the Blue Posts, where
we always rendezvoused was hardly open. We waited there in the
coffee-room, until we were driven out by the maid sweeping away the
dirt, and were forced to walk about until she had finished, and
lighted the fire, when we ordered our breakfast; but how much better
would it have been to have taken our breakfast comfortably on board,
and then to have come on shore, especially as we had no money to
spare. Next to being too late, being too soon is the worst plan in
the world. However, we had our breakfast, and paid the bill; then we
sallied forth, and went up George Street, where we found all sorts
of vehicles ready to take us to the fair. We got into one which they
called a dilly. I asked the man who drove us why it was so called, and
he replied because he only charged a shilling. O'Brien, who had joined
us after breakfasting on board, said that this answer reminded him of
one given to him by a man who attended the hackney-coach stands in
London. "Pray," said he, "why are you called Watermen?" "Watermen,"
replied the man, "vy, sir, 'cause ve opens the hackney-coach doors."
At last, with plenty of whipping, and plenty of swearing, and a great
deal of laughing, the old horse, whose back curved upwards like a bow,
from the difficulty of dragging so many, arrived at the bottom of
Portdown hill, where we got out, and walked up to the fair. It really
was a most beautiful sight. The bright blue sky, and the coloured
flags flapping about in all directions, the grass so green, and the
white tents and booths, the sun shining so bright, and the shining
gilt gingerbread, the variety of toys and variety of noise, the
quantity of people and the quantity of sweetmeats; little boys so
happy, and shop people so polite, the music at the booths, and the
bustle and eagerness of the people outside, made my heart quite jump.
There was Richardson, with a clown and harlequin, and such beautiful
women, dressed in clothes all over gold spangles, dancing reels and
waltzes, and looking so happy! There was Flint and Gyngell, with
fellows tumbling over head and heels, playing such tricks--eating
fire, and drawing yards of tape out of their mouths. Then there was
the Royal Circus, all the horses standing in a line, with men and
women standing on their backs, waving flags, while the trumpeters blew
their trumpets. And the largest giant in the world, and Mr. Paap,
the smallest dwarf in the world, and a female dwarf, who was smaller
still, and Miss Biffin, who did every thing without legs or arms.
There was also the learned pig, and the Herefordshire ox, and a
hundred other sights which I cannot now remember. We walked about for
an hour or two, seeing the outside of every thing: we determined to go
and see the inside. First we went into Richardson's, where we saw a
bloody tragedy, with a ghost and thunder, and afterwards a pantomime,
full of tricks, and tumbling over one another. Then we saw one or
two other things, I forget which, but this I know, that generally
speaking, the outside was better than the inside. After this, feeling
very hungry, we agreed to go into a booth and have something to eat.
The tables were ranged all around, and in the centre there was a
boarded platform for dancing. The ladies were there already dressed
for partners; and the music was so lively, that I felt very much
inclined to dance, but we had agreed to go and see the wild beasts fed
at Mr. Polito's menagerie, and as it was now almost eight o'clock, we
paid our bill and set off. It was a very curious sight, and better
worth seeing than any thing in the fair; I never had an idea that
there were so many strange animals in existence. They were all secured
in iron cages, and a large chandelier, with twenty lights, hung in the
centre of the booth, and lighted them up, while the keeper went round
and stirred them up with his long pole; at the same time he gave us
their histories, which were very interesting. I recollect a few of
them. There was the tapir, a great pig with a long nose, a variety of
the hiptostomass, which the keeper said was an amphibious animal, as
couldn't live on land, and _dies_ in the water--however, it seemed to
live very well in a cage. Then there was the kangaroo with its young
ones peeping out of it--a most astonishing animal. The keeper said
that it brought forth two young ones at a birth, and then took them
into its stomach again, until they arrived at years of discretion.
Then there was the pelican of the wilderness, (I shall not forget
him,) with a large bag under his throat, which the man put on his head
as a night-cap; this bird feeds its young with its own blood--when
fish are scarce. And there was the laughing hyaena, who cries in the
wood like a human being in distress, and devours those who come to his
assistance--a sad instance of the depravity of human nature, as the
keeper observed. There was a beautiful creature, the royal Bengal
tiger, only three years old, what growed ten inches every year, and
never arrived at its full growth. The one we saw measured, as the
keeper told us, sixteen feet from the snout to the tail, and seventeen
feet from the tail to the snout; but there must have been some mistake
there. There was a young elephant and three lions, and several other
animals, which I forget now, so I shall go on to describe the tragical
scene which occurred. The keeper had poked up all the animals, and had
commenced feeding them. The great lion was growling and snarling
over the shin bone of an ox, cracking it like a nut, when by some
mismanagement, one end of the pole upon which the chandelier was
suspended fell down, striking the door of the cage in which the
lioness was at supper, and bursting it open. It was all done in a
second; the chandelier fell, the cage opened, and the lioness sprung
out. I remember to this moment seeing the body of the lioness in the
air, and then all as dark as pitch. What a change! not a moment before
all of us staring with delight and curiosity, and then to be left in
darkness, horror and dismay! There was such screaming and shrieking,
such crying, and fighting, and pushing, and fainting, nobody knew
where to go, or how to find their way out. The people crowded first on
one side, and then on the other, as their fears instigated them. I was
very soon jammed up with my back against the bars of one of the cages,
and feeling some beast lay hold of me behind, made a desperate effort,
and succeeded in climbing up to the cage above, not however without
losing the seat of my trousers, which the laughing hyaena would not
let go. I hardly knew where I was when I climbed up; but I knew the
birds were mostly stationed above. However, that I might not have the
front of my trousers torn as well as the behind, as soon as I gained
my footing I turned round, with my back to the bars of the cage; but I
had not been there a minute, before I was attacked by something which
digged into me like a pickaxe, and as the hyaena had torn my clothes,
I had no defence against it. To turn round would have been worse
still; so after having received above a dozen stabs, I contrived by
degrees to shift my position, until I was opposite to another cage,
but not until the pelican, for it was that brute, had drawn as much
blood from me as would have fed his young for a week. I was surmising
what danger I should next encounter, when to my joy I discovered that
I had gained the open door from which the lioness had escaped. I
crawled in, and pulled the door too after me, thinking myself very
fortunate; and there I sat very quietly in a corner during the
remainder of the noise and confusion. I had not been there but a few
minutes, when the beef-eaters, as they were called, who played the
music outside, came in with torches and loaded muskets. The sight
which presented itself was truly shocking; twenty or thirty men,
women, and children, lay on the ground, and I thought at first the
lioness had killed them all, but they were only in fits, or had been
trampled down by the crowd. No one was seriously hurt. As for the
lioness, she was not to be found; and as soon as it was ascertained
that she had escaped, there was as much terror and scampering away
outside, as there had been in the menagerie. It appeared afterwards,
that the animal had been as much frightened as we had been, and had
secreted himself under one of the wagons. It was sometime before she
could be found. At last O'Brien who was a very brave fellow, went
a-head of the beef-eaters, and saw her eyes glaring. They borrowed a
net or two from the carts which had brought calves to the fair, and
threw them over her. When she was fairly entangled, they dragged her
by the tail into the menagerie. All this while I had remained very
quietly in the den, but when I perceived that its lawful owner had
come back again to retake possession, I thought it was time to come
out; so I called to my messmates, who with O'Brien were assisting the
beef-eaters. They had not discovered me, and laughed very much when
they saw where I was. One of the midshipmen shot the bolt of the door,
so that I could not jump out, and then stirred me up with a long pole.
At last I contrived to unbolt it again, and got out, when they laughed
still more, at the seat of my trousers being torn off. It was not
exactly a laughing matter to me, although I had to congratulate myself
upon a very lucky escape: and so did my messmates think, when I
narrated my adventures. The pelican was the worst part of the
business. O'Brien lent me a dark silk handkerchief, which I tied
round my waist, and let drop behind, so that my misfortunes might not
attract any notice, and then we quitted the menagerie; but I was so
stiff that I could scarcely walk.